


Count the Cost

by MauveCat



Series: Family Snapshots [12]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveCat/pseuds/MauveCat
Summary: A lawyer shows up at Jake's office. Jake is not buying his story.
Series: Family Snapshots [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729411
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Count the Cost

Humming tunelessly to himself, Jake flipped through a folder of flight manifests from the past month. Looked like everything was in order, but he wanted to double-check before he scanned them into the system – Malfoy was pretty strict about keeping Rourke Industries flights separate from ferrying the Catalysts back and forth. Jake gave him crap over the extra work, of course, but he also saw the sense in it. The Rourke kids were trying to rehabilitate their company's image now that Daddy Weirdbucks was locked up – and, according to rumors, getting nuttier by the day – so everything they did had to be accounted for.

Satisfied that he had everything sorted out, Jake looked over at his computer – asleep again. Just as he reached over to wake it up, he heard a hesitant knock on the door. Huh. He wasn't expecting anyone today.... “Door's not locked. C'mon in,”

Opening the door, a young man with a round pale face and light brown hair came in. “Excuse me... I'm looking for Jake McKenzie. Is this the Rourke International hangar?”

Jake raised his eyebrows. The airfield was way off the beaten path – no one showed up here by accident. “That door you just knocked on has a whole bunch of words on it. So do the signs outside the hangar. You bother to read any of 'em?”

The man in the doorway turned a shade pinker – part of it was probably embarrassment, but Jake also saw the signs of someone who wasn't used to New Orleans' humidity and heat. He glanced at the door. “Oh. So I guess that would make you Mr. McKenzie?”

“Odds are pretty good I am. You got a name of your own?”

“Dylan Henderson. I'm with a law firm in Boston. I wonder if you have time to answer a few questions?”

“Law firm in Boston, huh?” Henderson smiled nervously in response, and that caught Jake's attention; in his experience, nervous lawyers were few and far between. “You got a business card on you? I'll put it in my scrapbook.”

Henderson blinked. “Uhhhh....” He made a show of patting his pockets. “Sorry, I must have left them back in my hotel room.”

“That's too bad.” Jake closed the folder and tossed it aside. A lot of warning bells were going off – Henderson didn't bother to say what firm he was with, for one thing – but he wasn't ready to tip his hand. Propping his feet on the desk, he leaned back and said, “Yeah, I got a few minutes. Shoot.”

“Great!” Henderson sat down in one of the other chairs – it was the one with the wobbly legs. “So, I'm just interested in a little information. You work for Rourke International, right?”

“You got an absolute talent for stating the obvious, you know that?” Henderson turned yet another shade redder. “Yeah, I'm one of their pilots. I work for the Rourkes most of the time and I take other folks on the occasional charter flight when I'm free. Why you askin'?”

Henderson glanced at the closed folder on the desk and tried to look casual. “I'm just trying to connect some dots. Do you do much flying out of the country? Like, down to Central America or the Caribbean?”

Jake shrugged. He was beginning to see where this was going. “One of the Rourke kids lives in San Trobida most of the year and I give her a lift when she needs one. Most RI business gets done in London or New York, so I have to fly the honchos across the Atlantic now and then. There's a couple other branch offices here and there, including one here in New Orleans, so sure – I fly all over. What, you think I'm running drugs in my spare time?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Henderson laughed awkwardly. “I guess I'm just curious – is there a reason you're based in New Orleans?”

“Where else should I be? I grew up in Louisiana and I got family around Shreveport, so why shouldn't I be based in the Big Easy?” He exaggerated his drawl. Anyone with half a brain would have figured out he was on thin ice, but Jake didn't figure Henderson to be particularly gifted in that department. “You feel like cutting to the chase anytime soon?”

Henderson faltered for a moment, then said, “Well, I'm working on a case and your name was... um, suggested as someone who could give me some information.”

Jake gave him a long look. “Workin' on a case. You say you're a lawyer, huh?” Guy didn't look to be much past his early twenties. Could be he breezed through college and law school a lot quicker than most people... on the other hand, nothing about him screamed “genius.” Jake knew a few authentic geniuses and whatever they had in common, this kid wasn't hitting any of the marks. “You just showed up out of the blue, didn't bother to call first or make an appointment. Most lawyers I know don't make cold calls.”

“Oh. Well, sometimes we have to do background research – ”

“Most lawyers I know have clerks who take care of the monkey work – especially the ones from law firms big enough to send someone clear across the country. 'Background research' is definitely monkey work. Even a clerk's gotta have a law degree, for that matter, and I ain't so sure you do.” He leaned further back in his chair. “So. I'm feeling benevolent today. You wanna try again? I'll give you a chance to start over fresh.”

“I don't know what –”

“Benevolence just ended. I'm guessing first year law school.”

“Second!” Henderson drew himself up, offended. Jake grinned slowly and he watched the other man deflate.

“Was that so hard? Now, you ain't offering me legal advice so strictly speaking, you haven't broken the law yet by just pretending to be a lawyer. Can't imagine your professors would be too thrilled with you, though.”

Henderson scowled. “What, you're going to tell them? You don't even know what school I go to.”

Jake shrugged. “Wouldn't take long to find out. If you bothered to do any... well, I guess we'll stick with 'background research,' you'd know that I made it through Annapolis. You think I can't figure out how to use Google and Facebook? You're probably one of those guys who spreads his life out for everyone to see.” He narrowed his eyes and Henderson twitched. “Yeah, you got frat boy written all over you. Known plenty of those in my time, seen what kinda nonsense they get up to... and they always wanna pass it around to all their friends. You said you were from Boston – bet you go to one of them fancy-ass Ivy League schools. They're getting tough on student misbehavior these days. It'd be just awful if you put something on Facebook or Snapgram or whatever, and it came back to bite you in the ass.”

“Are you threatening me?” Henderson tried to sound tough, and Jake let his grin widen. Amateur.

“Naw. Threats from me usually involve a lot more cussing and maybe a broken bottle or two. This is just a friendly request – what the hell are you after?”

“Like I said, my... my law firm has been contacted about the possibility of a class-action –”

“Bullshit. We've established that you aren't with any firm, law or otherwise. Even if you were, a phone call woulda been a hell of a lot easier and cheaper than flying all the way down here. Your story doesn't hold up. Last chance, Matlock.” Jake swung his feet off his desk. “Start talking. If I like what you say, you get to walk out of here.”

“You're bluffing.” But Henderson stood and began edging toward the door.

“Let's find out.” Jake got up too, smoothly putting himself between the other man and the door. “You don't feel like talking, fine with me. Now, I _could_ let you just walk on out of here. But I ain't in the mood for that anymore. So here's your choice. You tell me who sent you, or I wipe the floor with you... and after that, you're still gonna tell me who sent you.”

Henderson looked at him; he had a few inches on Jake and a few more pounds. None of it was muscle, though. “You're bluffing,” He glowered and stood a little straighter.

“Yeah, you go ahead and repeat that a few more times – maybe you'll convince yourself. Ya know, back in Costa Rica, I worked as a bouncer at a dive bar in Cahuita when pilot gigs were thin on the ground. Plenty of tourists thought they could cause trouble. None of 'em ever tried it twice.” He leaned closer. “Now talk.”

“Okay! Okay... fine.” Henderson sagged back into his chair. “You're right, I'm not a lawyer yet. But I got an email from someone who said she's representing some clients who are starting a class-action suit against Rourke Industries over what went down a couple years ago on La Huerta. She said there was a huge cover-up and she wants Rourke's victims to get justice. You were part of it, so she wanted to find out what you're willing to talk about.”

Jake folded his arms and leaned against the door. “She says she wants justice. Pretty word, ain't it? I'm going out on a limb here, but I don't think you're motivated by a sense of fair play. What exactly did this mystery woman promise you?”

Reluctantly, Henderson said, “If I got a foot in the door with you, she said that when I graduate, I'd get a job at her firm, no questions asked.”

Rolling his eyes, Jake laughed. “And you fell for that? Here's another random guess: you never bothered to check her bonafides to see if she was legit, did you?” Henderson flushed. “Didn't think so. Bet you never looked into the settlements RI offered, either. Well, I'll fill you in. One of the first things Rourke's kids saw to was taking care of all the people who were stuck on the island. They paid everyone's medical bills for starters, along with hefty cash payouts. They had to liquidate half the company to get it done, but that's how they handled it. The media said it was just a PR stunt and the settlements were hush money, but the Rourkes don't care much what the media says. Besides, the payouts weren't linked to nondisclosure agreements. Anyone who wants to talk can talk all they want. Lord knows the tabloids were full of their stories for the first few months. At any rate, settlements have already been made, which is the first thing a real lawyer would've checked out.”

Henderson didn't meet his eyes. “I just thought....”

“You just thought you had the opportunity of a lifetime dropped in your lap, and that's where the thinking stopped.” Jake sighed. “Okay. Last question. You said you were contacted by a woman. Was her name Hanson, or maybe Langenfelt?” Henderson's eyes flickered at the second name. “Thought so. Friend of mine came across her a while back. She's got a grudge against the Rourke kids and we're still trying to figure out what her game is. You got any contact information for her in your phone?”

“Yeah.” Henderson scrolled through his phone with shaking hands, then gave it to Jake. “Here.”

“Much obliged, Matlock. See, it's always easier to come clean.” Jake scribbled down the information so he could pass it on to Zahra before he handed the phone back. “Okay, you're done here. Head on back to college – and if Langenfelt calls you, it'd be in your best interests to say you didn't get anywhere with me. Tell her I was a surly bastard. It seems that I got myself a reputation, so she'll believe it. Don't let on that you confirmed her identity, though. Might not be safe for you if you tell her that.”

“Fine, fine,” Henderson grumbled. He opened the door and looked over his shoulder. “The Rourkes must pay you a lot to cover for them.” He turned to leave, but yelped when Jake slammed the door closed.

Spinning Henderson around, Jake shoved him against the door. It was a few seconds before he trusted himself to speak. “Money's got nothing to do with this. I lost the best friend I ever had on that damn island – I watched him sacrifice himself for people he barely knew, for reasons you couldn't ever, _ever_ , understand. So these days, I don't care if it's a snot-nosed punk like you, or all the demons in hell comin' at me, I'm gonna protect whatever friends I got left. Now get out while you can still walk on your own.”

He stood back and watched Henderson scurry out and he didn't sit down until he heard a car peel out of the parking lot. Then, with a sigh, he picked up the scrap of paper with Langenfelt's info scrawled on it. Ever since Quinn's encounter a few months back, all the Catalysts had been on the lookout – what had Langenfelt been up to since then? Could be it took her a while to find another patsy, he supposed... on the other hand, maybe she picked a dumbass on purpose just to remind everyone that she was still out there. That's what Zahra was probably gonna say, and Jake had always admired her sneaky little mind.

Either way, time to let the others know that whatever was going on, it wasn't going to be over anytime soon.

_He who wishes to fight must first count the cost. – Sun Tzu, The Art of War_


End file.
